The Unconventional: Thriving As A Covered Model

Sometimes I think it’d be easier to show my ass. I mean my entire meaty ass that’s filled with fat craters and stretch marks. Like the whole thing sitting up on a sink like I see the other gals doing. You know those multiple photos on a girl’s Instagram page as she takes a half body selfie in the mirror with her ass cheeks out. Do you know how much I’d save on wardrobe??? How much time I’d save locating photographers and setting up shoots? To live the life of an IG model who posts semi-nudes and has followers stacked on followers and doesn’t have to worry about engagement because, hello! Sex sells. Bare skin sells. And, oh, I forgot to add, this only works for certain body types. Not all bodies get to show and be empowered by semi-nudity. Only the right kind of bodies get that right. The right kind of thin. And the right kind of thicc or curvy.

I was scrolling down my timeline yesterday and saw a post that read: nudity empowers some and modesty empowers others. Which I totally agree with and this is not a “bash people who are empowered by showing their bodies on the internet” post so if you know me or have read my work or follow the folks that I support and even try to place that in this equation, you can go royally fuck yourself.

What I am shedding light on is the fact that many of us feel that we should show more body (for the wrong reasons) just to stay relevant or get validation or receive more likes.

And, we see this not only with influencers but adolescents as well. I feel like now a lot of girls (and boys) have this mentality that the sexier the better. The barer the skin the prettier. The bigger the butt the worthier.

Modesty equals prudishness. It equals being confined to one stereotype. It equals less popular. The inability to be sexy, feel sexy, be fierce.

Because I grew up Muslim, we weren’t taught to be sexy. Sexy was forbidden. There was no need for a Muslim girl to feel or be sexy at all. The extreme end of modesty was humble, colorless, loose clothes, bare face. The idea that you shouldn’t want or feel the need to be seen. Lower your gaze. Be bashful.

And after hearing stories of other cultures and religions having the same experience as above, it’s as if you can be only one or the other. There is no in-between. What’s too sexy and what’s not sexy enough look like? What’s true body empowerment versus an attention seeker who just wants to be validated for her body and nothing else?

I feel like I’m in a weird place as someone who lives so openly on the net. And, believe me, I am not the most modestly dressed Muslim you’ll see, but I’m also not the most nude either.

One day, I was at an indoor spa and I had on a bathing suit in the water. It wasn’t a bikini top, but it was more like a sleeved swim top and the top part of my chest was out. I don’t remember if I had my hijab on or not, but I made a boomerang and a few Muslims went hard on me. Scolding me for showing my body. It’s this idea that you are or you aren’t. There is no in-between. This ideology that many of us carry is problematic in so many ways. It alienates people. It forces them to be someone they aren’t just to please the masses, please their communities. When truly, it’s not who they want to be.

I don’t want to feel pressured to show my ass for likes. But I appreciate others who show their asses for a cause or because they want to be free or want to show others that there is confidence in being okay with your body. I don’t want to feel pressured to cover my body or hair either. To pretend to be fake modest like I had when I was married or when I was more involved with the Muslim community. When I wanted to fit in to their standards of how a Muslim should look.    

I’d like to wear what makes me comfortable, whether I get validation or likes or not. I’d like to be liked for me. I’d like to be accepted for me. Whether that’s fully covered or not or somewhere in between.

But, I will tell you right now that in no one is it easy to be a fat, Black model who also happens to be a semi-covered Muslim. Every time, I book a gig, I am all types of shocked. And all kinds of grateful because I can’t do and wear what the other models do and wear. So, it limits me. But, when I do step up, I am serving looks so hard that I want to make them forget that they have a Muslim girl on set. I am so fierce that all they see is a girl that will kill that shot every single time. So, that other girls (and boys) who are behind me or standing beside me have a chance to walk in that door and wear their culture or religion proudly in that campaign or on that panel.

xoxo,

Leah V  

5th Year in the Game: It’s My Blogger-versary

It’s my 5th year blogger-versary, y’all. *Tosses Confetti*

Damn, I’m old.  

This week back in 2013, I decided to start another blog (the two previous ones had failed). I had no clue what I was doing. No fancy camera (just a grainy ass android). No experience in styling or makeup.

Drake said he started at the bottom, girl, I started way beneath the bottom.  

I was married to a man who didn’t support what I was doing. He hadn’t understood my purpose, my vision. He wasn’t the cheering section that I thought and needed him to be. He did the bare minimum. I had to push myself and pick up the slack.

When I first hit the scene as a baby blogger, I was glared at by not only straight-sized bloggers, but the plus-size ones as well. I wasn’t good enough to be in their groups. I wasn’t good enough to be included in the photos with their fancy DSLR cameras. I was the newbie on their little turf and was underestimated. They hadn’t thought that I’d be the most successful blogger in Detroit, who’s not only been featured locally but nationally and internationally. If you are one of those people reading this, how does those apples taste? 

I hadn’t told my family because they didn’t understand why I couldn’t ‘use my degrees’ to get a real job. Work a job I hated for 30 years and not ever make a difference. I couldn’t do that. Not for them, I couldn’t.

I was made fun of. Told by Muslims that I should blog about religion instead of fashion, that what I was doing would embarrass my husband and that it wasn’t fitting of a Muslim woman to ‘model’ and wear makeup. That I shouldn’t bring attention to myself. I did that shit anyway.

I was picked over for white bloggers with way less of a following just because ya know, I wasn’t white.

For some hardheaded ass reason, I persisted. I paused, but I never, ever stopped.

The reason I started Beauty and the Muse was because I needed an outlet for my creativity, my pain, my voice. I wanted to be what I never got growing up. I wanted to see proper representation that the media fails to acknowledge. I wanted to be the change I wished to see. Instead of talking, I chose to do.

So, here we are. Five years later. It’s been a helluva ride. So much has happened good and bad. But, mostly good.  

I want to leave you with a bit of inspiration. If you want something, then go get it. Do not ask for permission. You will be your own biggest fan in your journey to creating the life that you want to live. Do not ask for permission for the reigns that control your life. It’s already there for the taking. So, what are you waiting for?

In celebration of my anniversary, I’m gifting you with a dope ass video with the song titled “Fuck They” by Sofi Tukker because who wouldn’t want to celebrate a carefree, Black, fat Muslim living in her truths.

Question, what year did you start following me and what made you follow? 

***Shout out to Daniela Lisi for thuggin it out with me to make this video very late at night.

xoxo,

Leah V

Am I Not Muslim Enough For You?

I really hate the internet sometimes. Seems like in every crack and crevice is a someone lurking in the shadows to call you out on a misplaced period or find a sliver of your ankle meat showing so they can immediately tell you that you are soooo not a Muslim and to immediately remove your hijab because you are disgracing Islam.

Last week, I had to block multiple Muslim sisters who felt the need to tell me that I’m haram (forbidden by Islamic law) and the things that I do are haram. Mind you, these are folks that have followed me. I’ve been called haram for the most part of my life. And, the things that I do are most likely looked down upon in a traditional sense. That’s totally fine. I get it. There are certain rules in Islam that I just don’t abide by. Modesty is one of them. My clothes are way too tight. I don’t cover my neck. Heck, you might even see some arm meat once in a while. My face is usually beat to the gawds *tongue pop*.  I could lie and say that I’m working on it just to appease the Haram-Police, but I’m not. I’m not working on my level of modesty. Why? Because I don’t want to right now.

One girl direct messaged me saying that men could ‘see me’. That she was all for my Black Muslim empowerment but she thought I was taking my freedom too far and she hadn’t followed me for that purpose…

Another said that I was sinning so hard that I should just take my hijab off.

Booties: ELOQUII 

Leah V, you are such a bad Muslim that you should take your hijab off. Just throw the whole hijab away. It’s so sad and so funny simultaneously. I kinda want to make a parody of reasons why Muslims tell other Muslims to take their hijab off.

OMG. You’ve stepped into the mosque with your left foot. Take your hijab off!

You prayed way too fast. Take your hijab off!

You ordered a chicken sandwich on a Tuesday. You know what? Just take off your HIJAB!!!

It’s mind-boggling that someone would tell you to sin again because you already sinned once. So, basically, what they are saying is that when you do something wrong, there is no coming back. Just quit. Because you’ve failed. And, if that ideology is true then they are far less of a Muslim than I thought.  

The reason why I’m writing about this is because I was triggered, and I know many other hijabis (and non-hijabis) who go through this daily.

Fit: Rainbow Shops

For many years, my body has been heavily policed. I’ve never been Black enough. I wasn’t thin enough. And, I was never Muslim enough. Even when I tried to be super-holy Muslimah, it never was enough. During those times, I wasn’t even dressing modestly for Allah (swt) I was doing it so no one from the community could call me a whore or a slut. I was doing it so my mom would think I was a good and abiding Muslim girl. I did it so my ex could be proud of how outwardly Muslim I was.

Many of us miss the point of Islam. We aren’t doing ‘good’ things to please people. We do them because we love Allah (swt) and because good things boost our spiritual connections. And, your ‘good’ isn’t one size fits all. Your good can be so many things. Being a Muslim isn’t a one size fits all and it’s definitely not I-shame-you-into-submission.

The Muslims, people that like to shame others, the ones who circle around your head like a crow waiting for you to do something ‘haram’, and the ones who project their own insecurities onto you don’t deserve your or my time.

I’ve just gotten to a point where I’m okay with me.

My hijab, or lack of, is my business. I can wear the hijab, an abaya, and even a veil, and be Muslim. I can wear no scarf, shorts, and a tube top, and be Muslim, still.

And, if you don’t agree, then peace be unto you. But, your negativity won’t stop me from practicing.  

Are Muslims supposed to cover, be modest? Yes. Do we do it all the time? No. Why? Cuz we’re human. And humans do what they want to do at the end of the day. Let my struggle be that, my struggle. Let my spirituality, be that. My spirituality.

I’m not obligated to share with you how close or far I am from my religion.

I find it odd that Muslim men never get policed as much as Muslim women do. They can go out into the world and be anonymous, when hijabis are visible and at risk. We’re the ones getting attacked and we still wear hijabs faithfully and rock our religion with poise and confidence.

I’m tired of people policing my faith and the faith of others and telling me to take off my hijab.

You think I’m not Muslim enough. Well, that’s your right and prerogative. Delete me. Think I’m not representing? Delete me. Think I’m a bad role model? Delete me. No hard feelings. Honestly. Why follow someone you don’t think is living right? I’m so shooketh, but also not really. LOL.    

Who else has experienced such body policing? We need to put this all on the table. Let’s chat.

xoxo,

Leah V